Month: February 2017

I have spent five years worrying about your opinions. Dreading the “I told you so” that is going to come from my side of the family. Dreading the “You can stop the cycle of divorce” from his side of the family. And honestly I am tired. Tired of being hurt. Tired of allowing this bullshit to affect my health, my job, and my life.

It is so sad that although I was exhausted at 8 pm last night that I forced myself to stay up until almost midnight waiting on even just a reply to know what time he who cannot find his own fucking keys was planning on coming home so that I wouldn’t neglect the safety of the other three people, including myself, who live in this apartment by leaving the door unlocked all night. When I didn’t get a reply, I left my keys hidden by the door all night long and attempted to get some sleep. At this point, I don’t even know if by some chance someone else managed to find them and steal them. I then woke up a little after 4 am and realized my husband never came home. I have no idea where he is. He is not responding to my messages. He never bothered to call. If I had a phone right now, I would honestly be waiting on phone call from the police telling me he was dead. And guess what, I still haven’t been back to sleep. I got maybe four hours of sleep, but I am more worried about where he is and if he is ok to get any more sleep. And this is typical!!! This may have been a Saturday to Sunday incident this time, but the time before that was a Sunday to Monday. I had to go to work and listen to my boss tell me that I cannot let my home life affect my job performance. I had to go to work and put up with eight screaming potty-trainees. I physically can’t anymore.

I just had this conversation with a friend:

6:28AM

me: At this point, should I just go get my keys?

friend: About 10 am ish, go get em

me: I’m still worried that my keys could get stolen

friend: Also…. *hugs* morning Eh…. true, at least go check on em

me:What should I do? He obviously has no desire to tell the truth, no regard for how worried I get when he doesn’t show, no regard for how much sleep I get at night because I’m worrying about him…

friend: It… might be time to stop worrying about him. If he’s not going to worry about you, why should you to him?

me: How do you stop worrying about someone you love?

friend: If he’s putting you through this, it’s not love he’s showing

I love him, but I have to take care of myself. My mental and physical health has been seriously neglected, and I refuse to let that happen any more.

I am sorry to put you through whatever imaginary reputation damage, my life choices have thrust upon you.

Today is the anniversary of my first miscarriage… My boss accidentally triggered me by giving me a rose… I’m in a lot of pain because I ignored doctor’s orders and took a shower and reopened my burn… I started Satan’s waterfall at work and have no pads with me… My disphoria is off the charts today… The kids are driving me crazy, and if I hear one more, “Why?” I might just scream…

I understand not all dreams have interpretations or deep meanings, some are literally just what’s on your mind, but in an effort to better help me, my therapist has asked that I keep a dream journal.

TRIGGER WARNING: mention of death and associated items

I was back in the void. (That’s what I call it. I don’t know if it’s another world or plane or just what I dream up when my brain gets lazy, but it’s blackness in every direction, up, down, left, right, no floors, no walls, just emptiness.)

My body was in a coffin, no lid, and I was observing from a standing position outside of my body to the right. My body was lying on its stomach, arms crossed across the chest.

This song kept playing over and over and over ad nauseum. It was the Doctor Who parody of If I Die Young.

If I die young, bury me in the TARDIS. Lay me down on a bed of bowties. Sink me in the time vortex at dawn. Send me away with a Galifreyan love song.